


What Nobody Says

by VeraWhite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Care of Magical Creatures, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fanfiction, Friendship, Jealousy, Love Triangles, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Slow Burn, Yearning, harry potter fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraWhite/pseuds/VeraWhite
Summary: Hopeless. That's what she was. First it was English. Then Transfiguration. Then Sirius Black. Elena had never planned to leave her little village in Spain, but as dark forces invade Europe, she finds herself in the midst of it all as she struggles to navigate the fine line between her enemies and the men she loves. But when all is said and done, will she survive? Slow Burn (Sirius Black x OC)
Relationships: Fabian Prewett/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Gideon Prewett, Newt Scamander/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Regulus Black/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s), Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Elena Valeria

_ Summer, 1971 _

The light filtered through the leaves on the tree outside Elena's bedroom window, gently at first and then all at once, filling up her room with the warm sunlight Mamá always said could only be found in Spain. The old hacienda where her family's villa was located was surrounded by fields of grapes that made up the Alvarez family vineyard. 

Papá always told her that no matter where life took her, their little village of Iliane would always be home. Sometimes if she just looked in the mirror, deep into her dark eyes she could see the dark earth that surrounded her home and was often stuck under fingernails.

Iliane was a small village, not far from a busy port city that Elena was forbidden from visiting. She spent her days playing pretend with Lucia, who loved to dream of being swept off her feet by a handsome prince, who was usually played by Elena wearing a dirt mustache. Antonio always teased her about things like this. He called her “the goodest girl” and would taunt her with the trinkets he would find left by tourists on the coast. He was a family friend, his father was Papá’s business partner and they often spent hours at the next town over, meeting with suppliers to sell their wine to. According to Abuela, they would also take their chances on the port city’s casino after a particularly good business deal, a fact of life that bothered Mamá to no end. Elena didn’t like to hear things like this, Papá was perfect in her eyes, so she’d quickly try to turn the conversation elsewhere.

The summer before she turned eleven, Elena decided boys were no good. It was all Antonio’s fault of course. She had been sipping on a glass of grape juice that made her lips red and swollen when Antonio came by on his bicycle to say hello and play in her pool. Her large black sunglasses looked comical on her heart shaped face and when she smiled her teeth were tinted ever so slightly. Antonio stopped and, remembering something his older brother Julian had told him just the other day, he swooped down and lightly pressed his chapped lips on hers. Elena's eyes widened in rage when he leaned back and grinned cheekily back at her. Setting her juice down gingerly, she got up and started chasing Antonio around her yard, until she finally just pushed him in her pool. It was a very silly way to lose your first kiss, by having it stolen by the boy you've known all your life, and Elena silently vowed to never let another boy kiss her ever again. Papá just smiled when she told him this.

That June, Elena found out a family secret. Papá pulled her aside after her birthday party and gave her a gold rosary, with little pearls going up and down the chain, with a gleaming crucifix at the end. Papá had never been the religious sort, despite Abuela’s constant chastising. She often quipped that without God, there could be no morals, which everyone knew was a dig at her son-in-law. 

“Mija, I give you this so you may always have protection and a little bit of home, even when you are very far away. Do you remember all your prayers? Good girl. Darling, you must always remember them and more importantly, you must always remember where you come from."

It was beautiful, much too beautiful for Elena to carry around with her without fear of losing it. She fretted over the possibilities and barely noticed when Papá took out a thick envelope with a red wax seal. He handed it over silently, breaking her train of thought. It said:

TO Ms Elena Valeria James Alvarez

Third Bedroom, Down the Hall and to the Right

Second Floor, Alvarez Villa

Iliane, Spain

How odd. Elena had never seen a letter addressed in that way before. It felt almost like an invasion of privacy, to know which bedroom was hers. She ran her fingers over the seal, which was adorned with an unfamiliar crest with four animals. Elena looked at Papá in confusion, her eyes squinting comically in a way that caused her dark eyelashes to fold onto each other. Papá placed his large, worn hands on her skinny shoulders, brushing against the frilled straps of her sundress. She had never seen his eyes look so bright before.

"Elena, not everything is not as simple as it seems.” 

Elena had always known there was something off about her family. Their grapes always swelled before anyone else’s and she had often heard the village people mutter something about “brujeria” whenever she was out with Abuela. She knew that Mamá had left the village, something that was never heard of in their town, especially for a woman of her time. She knew that Papá’s family lived abroad, too far away to visit, yet their letters always came the fastest. 

Elena's dark eyebrows folded into a crease as she tried to understand what Papá was staying. She knew the dimple in her right cheek became deeply pronounced whenever she made this face and Antonio had the annoying habit of poking it mockingly. 

“Perhaps your mother would have been better at explaining this than I would, she’s the one who actually went to Hogwarts.”

And so, it was revealed that Elena had come from a long line of witches and wizards that had lived in secret for a very long time. Mamá had been the only one to leave Iliane for magic school in Scotland. She had been the favorite of her year, but had surprised everyone when she eventually returned to marry Papá and left behind her life of magic. Elena could not understand why Mamá did not use magic anymore, Papá seemed to think it was the greatest thing in the world, even if he could not use it. Her heart trembled at the thought of leaving home for a place with a language she barely understood. Mamá promised that she would pick it up in no time. Elena sincerely doubted that. She had the worst English grades in her whole school.

Weeks later, Elena was being poked by what felt like thousands of little needles by the wrinkled hands of her Abuela, a sharp witted old woman with leathery skin and gray hair that shone stark against her dark features. When she was little, Elena believed Abuela to be a million years old because of how wise she was and the sheer amount of  _ stuff _ she knew. Elena absolutely adored her. Right now, with her bony fingers digging into her sides and pushing her this way and that, Elena was not so endeared.

"Elena Valeria," Abuela was the only person who called Elena by her full given name, "You are going to have the loveliest robes at that school, that is for sure! Those Brits, as smart as they may be, have no appreciation for the art of working with your hands. Elena Valeria, it is in the hands where all good things come, and a woman's hands can only create things with love. A shirt is not a shirt, it is a blouse, a skirt is not a skirt, it is the petals that twirl as you spin,  _ mi hermosa flor _ ." 

Abuela's hands spun Elena around, harrumphing now and again at the fashion of Scottish, or the British, or the northern European, Elena could not keep track. She took in a deep breath of air once Abuela released her from her vice grip, taking notes with one hand and feeling for the perfect fabric with the other.

They were in Abuela's little home, a clay building with a flat red roof and white walls, draped in shawls and Persian rugs, smelling of lavender incense from her many travels. Elena had many memories stored in this place, a lovingly disorganized place that was meticulously cleaned each Saturday without fail. Abuela was full of contradictions and mysteries Elena loved to uncover one by one. From her, Elena inherited an odd love of bugs and other "creepy crawly" things, as Lucia would say, but also from her Abuela, came her strong aversion to pants and shoes. Elena lived almost exclusively in some dress or another, all made by hand with only the loveliest of fabrics and most eye-catching of colors. The black robes and black shoes and dreary weather that awaited Elena was something neither her nor her Abuela were looking forward to.

Elena truly had too much clothing to take with her, but as long as it appeased her Abuela, she paid it no mind. Mamá had given her a brand new Polaroid camera with plenty of film for her to take to Hogwarts, and made her promise to make the most of her time at the witching school. Lucia cried when she said goodbye, her golden curls frizzing around her tear-stricken face. Tío told her to write often and to make them proud. Antonio was a different story altogether.

He kept on as if nothing was happening and kept dragging her around the village, buying her ice-cream and dancing salsa with her in the square. He could never bring himself to look her full in the face though, and his sweaty hand grabbed hers whenever he had the chance, almost as if he believed she'd disappear from one moment to the next. Finally Elena had had enough. She was leaving tomorrow and Antonio was still playing this silly game. She grabbed him tightly by the arm, her nails digging into his skin, and ran to the far side of the village that was close to the marina in the neighboring town. She didn't stop until her dirty feet felt the scalding sand and she finally stopped, not yet turning to Antonio although she had already dropped his arm.

Taking a deep breath, Elena turned around and found herself face to face with Antonio's bright green eyes. No one in their village had eyes like his. Rumor had it that Antonio's mother had been a circus performer who had left Tío and Antonio as quickly as she had come into their lives. Still, Elena was never a match for those eyes. She clumsily took his hand in hers, and said, "You know I'll come back right?" Antonio's eyes softened but did not stop what they were doing to her heart. "I'll never leave you." The two friends sat on the white sand, quietly watching the ocean waves lap onto each other, moving apart and coming together violently and then softly.

The sun set long before Antonio finally spoke. He had not let go of her hand.

"I'll be waiting."


	2. Exploding Snap

_September 1st, 1971_

The European Bee-Eater is a small bird, averaging about 28cm in length, with richly-colored feathers and a slender body. It has a rich chestnut crown that looks red in certain lighting that blends into gold on its back. The forehead is white, the throat is yellow bordered by black, and the underparts are blue and emerald green. It's wings resemble that of a hummingbird in their triangular shape, but are much longer and more slender. They inhabit mostly southern Europe and are a strongly migratory bird, with a diet of bees and dragonflies.

They also happened to be Elena's favorite bird.

Perhaps this is why, instead of a powerful barn owl, or a majestic snowy owl, Papá relented and bought her one of these instead. Pio, named after one of Abuela's favorite nursery rhymes, fluttered in annoyance after the third bump Elena had pushed her trolley over, shaking his small cage that had been tied to the top of her other belongings. Kings Cross Station was huge. Enormous. Gigantic. Collossa-

Elena forced herself to stop thinking of adjectives for the mammoth station so she wouldn’t run into the family of redheads, heading towards Platform 10. She smiled when she saw a pair of twins hounding what appeared to be their older sister, who was heavily pregnant.

"Fabian! Don't start!" She scolded one of them, slapping him on the back of the head as they hurried to catch up with their parents, "I will not be naming my first born son after either of you idiots," she said, her voice becoming increasingly high-pitched.

Elena had difficulty understanding what the twin on her other side fired back, partially because she was still getting used to everyone speaking English _all the time_ , and partially because she wasn’t sure what it meant when her ticket said to board the Hogwarts Express on Platform 9 and 3 quarters. Not confident enough to ask one of the guards, so she decided to follow the odd bunch of red-haired folks, silently wondering if all of the Scottish wear green kilts and have red hair.

Caught up in her musings, she didn’t notice when the redheads disappeared through the wall between Platforms 9 and 10, or when she followed them right through the wall as well.

Mildly shocked at the realization that she had passed through a wall, Elena gawked at the sheer amount of people on Platform 9 3/4.

Families upon families said tearful goodbyes to their children, friends greeted each other excitedly, and a couple of the older students kissed in hidden corners, all beside a gleaming red train. Mind reeling as she calculated that there must have been more people on the Platform than in Iliane itself, Elena didn’t realize she was still blocking the entrance by the wall when the sharp angle of someone else's trolley digs into the small of her back and nearly rips her burgundy dress. Letting out a short, but loud nonetheless, yelp! Elena stumbled out of the way and pulled her trolley towards where other families were loading their own luggage.

Stood beside her peers and their families, Elena was reminded of her unimpressive stature. Glancing at a particularly tall and slender girl that was flipping her hair coquettishly at another girl in yellow robes, the candies Elena had snuck into her coat pockets burned her thighs shamefully, as if to point out the stretch marks that were beginning to form. Abuela had always warned her about her sweet tooth while waxing on about Mamá’s beauty queen days. 

Elena knew she wasn't about to put herself through the embarrassment of trying to load her own trunk onto the train. Silently hoping to either be struck by a bolt of lightning or saved by an angel in disguise, she shot her eyes around looking for a bored looking older student. The thought of asking for help pained her greatly, especially when she remembered her horrible tendency to overpack. Antonio loved to make fun of her for that.

Horribly aware of the ticking hand of the station’s only clock as it neared boarding time, Elena locked eyes with a beautiful woman with sandy hair. Too embarrassed to say anything, but unable to look away, she watched her prod the lanky, but decidedly handsome man beside her. Elena’s face turned beet red once realized what was happening, cursing herself for not spending more time with Antonio playing sports and building muscle. The couple approached like one would approach a wild animal. 

“Are you alone, sweetie?”

Elena could not bring herself to open her mouth in front of this goddess and reveal her awful accented English. If only she paid better attention in class! With an embarrassingly understanding look, the woman quietly asked if she needed any help with her luggage. 

Elena’s throat constricted uncomfortably and she was sure that they could hear the drumming of her heart. The woman had a soft look in her, one that reminded her of Mamá and made Elena feel incredibly homesick. 

“Remus, darling, why don’t you keep this nice girl company while your father and I put away your luggage.”

For the first time, Elena took her eyes off the woman and noticed the skinny boy behind her, who was undoubtedly her son. The couple wheeled their trolley and Elena’s to the loading dock before she could let out a sound in protest. Elena holds Pio’s cage close to her chest, meanwhile fingering the treats she had caught for him while she had waited to catch the Portkey to England.

Lucia hated when she did weird stuff like that, mostly because she hated "creepy crawly creatures" and anything that wasn’t distinctly lady-like. Abuela surely would have rapped her fingers with a ruler had she known. She cringed at the thought.

Elena and Remus stood together awkwardly waiting for his parents to return. Elena went over her grammar basics in her head, hoping she wouldn’t get tripped up like she usually did. Still, she felt secretly grateful to have the company of this boy and slightly jealous of the splotchy kiss his mother presses to his cheek and the tears she sheds for him. Elena wonders again why Mamá had not come. Papá could not do magic, a squib they called him, so he could not bear the exhaustive magical travel needed to get to Kings’ Cross Station. But this was Mamá’s alma mater. She had not seen Hogwarts since she graduated in 1945. 

Remus yanked the back of Elena’s coat, saving her from a stray spell that narrowly missed her nose and pulling her out of her thoughts. There seemed to be a silent agreement that they would find a compartment together and Elena was grateful for his easy-going nature. Remembering her manners, Elena introduced herself quietly as they scan the train for an empty compartment. After a disastrous run-in with a blonde couple in green trimmed robes, they finally score a compartment near the back, where many of the other younger students seem to have settled. 

"Is it always like this?" Elena wondered out-loud. 

“Probably not, but it’s a special case since it’s the first day of term.” 

Elena nodded to herself silently, pulling off her trench coat and folding it next to her. Remus quirked an eyebrow when he saw her pull her thick black cardigan closer to her body.

"Cold?"

Elena furrowed her brow, not completely understanding his sarcasm, since it seemed pretty obvious to her how cold it was.

“Erm, yes?"

Remus started, as if having suddenly realized his manners, and introduced himself with a kind smile. "I'm Remus by the way."

Elena smiled back at Remus. Hoping to win him over and calm her own nerves a bit, she pulled out some of the candies she had snuck with her: chocolate covered coffee beans, chocolate oranges, and other varieties of dark and milk chocolate. Remus’s eyes bugged out of his head. It seemed he shared her penchant for sweets.

They spent the next hour and a half sharing chocolates and speculating about what the magic school would bring. Remus showed an interest in Iliane and Elena asked him increasingly nosy questions about the suburb he grew up in just outside of sprawling London. She told him about her Papá's vineyard and the hacienda, as well as stories of her Abuela's travels from long ago. He was fascinated to learn that she was the second in her family to ever go to magic school, despite having several wizard ancestors. 

Elena felt jealous that Remus knew so much about so many things, even telling her about the four different Houses they could be Sorted into. She tried not to hold grudges though, and she continued to share her chocolates with him.

She was about to show him Pio, lifting the blue cloth from around his chirping cage, when two boys with impossibly messy hair stumbled into their compartment. One, a boy with light brown eyes and round wire glasses crouched down onto the floor of their compartment, and the other, a boy with regally high cheekbones and curls as dark as night was carefully shutting the door behind them. He glanced out the window and pulled down the curtain when he caught the view of something unpleasant. 

The intruders didn’t seem to realize they were not alone until Elena curved an elegant eyebrow and asked, "What do you think you are doing?"

Glasses turned around and shushed her rudely, pulling a shimmery fabric from his robe's pocket, and motioned to the other boy to get close just when the door slammed open. Elena and Remus looked up into the face of one of the older students they had seen while looking for a compartment, a boy with long platinum blonde hair that had been entangled with a pretty girl with the same green on her robes. Displayed on his chest was a proud looking badge with a gleaming "P" on it. His crystalline eyes scanned the room as if searching for something out of place and his upper lip lifted into a sneer when he saw the many chocolate wrappers surrounding Elena and Remus.

"I trust you two have not seen a pair of troublemaking buffoons around here, have you?"

Elena shook her head, eyes wide and determined not to cause any trouble so soon, wondering in the back of her mind as to where those boys had disappeared from their compartment. Or had it just been a dream?

The haughty blonde sniffed in disdain, still looking down at the two first years from his nose, "Very well then. Change into your robes, we'll be arriving soon." With that said, he slammed the door closed and went back towards the front of the train.

All was silent for less than a minute. Then Elena was screaming something in Spanish because there were two _floating heads_ in their compartment. More than that, they were the floating heads of the troublemakers the blond boy was looking for. Three pairs of frantic hands go to cover her mouth before the prefect can come back and give them all detention before they have even stepped inside of Hogwarts. Pio was frantically buzzing around his cage, concerned for his lady and ready to nip at anyone who tries to harm her.

Once they finally got a distraught Elena settled down, the boy with the magic cloak introduced himself as James Potter and explained: no, they are not demons; yes, the cloak can make them invisible when they put it on; no, they weren’t going to hurt anyone. He explained proudly that the blond boy ("Malfoy," he smirked) was chasing them because they had thrown a dungbomb at him while he had been chatting up Narcissa Black.

"My dear cousin," said the boy with the midnight curls, turning his stormy grey eyes onto Elena. She had never seen such eyes. She didn’t like the way they bore into her. 

"The name is Black, Sirius Black," He offered with a smirk and cocky tilt of his head.

"Elena James."

"Remus Lupin."

James pulled out a pack of violet and yellow cards, "Anyone want to play a round of Exploding Snap?"

The boys agreed to teach a confused Elena how to play and laughed good-naturedly when she all-but-singed Remus's robes and turned beet red. James explained the rules of the game, while Sirius interrupted him loudly with instructions that Elena was sure would get them all expelled. Still, she didn’t mind this oddly violent game. It was more fun than the poker games Papá and Tío sometimes let her in on, the room full of tobacco smoke and Papá with his tie draped across his shoulders. Sirius winked at her and she was reminded of the promise Papá made her keep: _Don’t tell Mamá about this, okay mija?_ She frowned back at him. Sometimes boys were the worst. 

The boys step out to let her change once the train pulls into the station. Elena didn’t know what to make of Sirius's twinkling grey eyes when he asked her for a chocolate orange. She gave him two, while handing off the rest to Remus and James as thanks for waiting. The four walk as a group towards the rest of the nervous looking first years. They stand next to a boy named Peter. 

Feeling incredibly small, Elena glanced up at Hagrid, the tall young man leading them to the boats. Hogwarts finally in view, Elena is struck with the feeling that her life as she knew it has come to an end.

The walk to the Great Hall goes by in a blur of moving portraits, candlelit halls, and ghostly apparitions. Everything was so straightforwardly _magical_. She realized she had been separated from the boys, who seemed to have easily swapped her out for Peter. Too nervous to feel resentful, Elena took in a few anchoring breaths, still not accustomed to the strange words and expressions of the other children. She strained her ears but could not make out meaning from the multitude of conversations she was bombarded with. An intimidating witch in green robes appeared before them and then the rest of Hogwarts as the Great Doors opened up before them.

The ceiling was painted with the most extraordinary sky she had ever seen, seeming to move with the thousands of stars and dark clouds in the night sky. Guided by floating candles, she and the other first years filed their way down the center of the four long tables towards a stool with an ugly looking hat and the stern witch from before.

She unfurled a list from which she called the names of the other children. Elena didn’t have to wait long until her name was called.

"Elena James!" They abbreviated it, just as they did with everything in this country. UK, ECB, EU, MoM. Elena James.

She smoothed out her skirt and threw back her shoulders, her hair tickling her sides. She felt painfully aware of the eyes on her and of the sound of her clacking shoes. She eased herself onto the creaky stool, worried she might slip off it, and could not hold back a gasp when the hat was shoved on her head and her mind filled with a foreign voice. She couldn’t quite pay attention to what the Hat muttered to her, too distracted by the sensation of someone rifling through the files in her mind, which abruptly ended once the rip in its seam opened like a mouth and it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

It didn’t take long for the other children to be Sorted into each of the four Houses. She noticed that the House in green had the awful habit of sneering each time a student was sorted, while her own seemed to be full of rowdy people. The blue and yellow Houses each seemed to be the more calm of the four, but her thoughts went blank when at the sight of the feast that suddenly appeared before her. 

Ignoring all thoughts of home, English, and Mamá, Elena fills up her plate with the new cuisine and makes an effort to talk to her new peers. There is a girl with hair like fire and emerald eyes that remind her a bit too much of Antonio. Suddenly, Elena doesn’t feel hungry anymore. She does not finish her dinner.

When they have finished the trek up to the Gryffindor Tower and the prefects have made sure they all knew the password to the Common Room, Elena slips away from her chattering Housemates, determined to get some rest. Slipping into her nightgown and grabbing her stuffed bunny from her trunk, Elena settles into bed, not completely conscious but very aware of the adventure Hogwarts was sure to bring.


	3. Hair Pulling

_ October 1971 _

Over a month had passed since Elena started Hogwarts and she was ready to pull her hair out in frustration.

She enjoyed almost all of her classes, her favorites being Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and Charms. She had a natural affinity of caring for living things and was perhaps the only girl in her year willing to get her hands dirty. She greatly enjoyed Charms mostly because of Professor Flitwick who never minded going a little slower in his explanations when she looked particularly confused, and was always quick to praise his students for completing their tasks. In fact, Elena wouldn't have known you could even lose points had she only had Professor Flitwick as a teacher.

Unfortunately for her, this was not the case, and she had five other classes that quickly disproved that idea. Potions were fine if you thought of it as cooking, and that's precisely what Elena did. Only problem was, Elena was a terrible cook. Professor Slughorn, a kind and jolly Englishman, was understandably exasperated with Elena at the end of each class, but could only manage a mild sort of encouragement along the lines of, "Do try a little harder not to blow up your cauldron Ms. James, I'm sure you'll get it next time," when faced with her sparkly brown eyes on the verge of tears. Sirius Black and his lot, including cocky James Potter, the nervous Peter Pettigrew, and sweet Remus Lupin from the train station, spent most of Potions guffawing whenever Elena messed up (which was very often) and her Potions partner, a Hufflepuff named Anthony Goldman, watched in horror as she added too much of an ingredient and tried to remedy it by flinging a bit of whatever she could find to "even it out." Needless to say, Potions was not her strong suit, although she truly did try her best.

As for History of Magic, Elena, who still struggled with English at times, did her best to pay attention to the monotone ghost who lectured from the beginning to the end of class, but found herself falling asleep in awkward 20 minute intervals usually interrupted whenever Lily Evans decided to pinch her arm tightly or Sirius Black threw crumpled up pieces of parchment at the back of her head. History of Magic would have been her least favorite class, if not for Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. The stern professor terrified Elena to her core and she spent most of each class anxiously praying that she would not be called on to demonstrate the spell they had just learned. Most classes, luck seemed to be on her side in the form of overachieving Lily Evans or James Potter, who tried very hard to impress Lily but only annoyed her when he got things right. When it was not, Elena turned red in shame as Professor McGonagall explained to the class  _ literally everything _ wrong with her spell work. A particularly embarrassing moment was when they were learning to turn matches into needles and Elena had somehow managed to light her match on fire and her desk remained slightly singed for the next seven years. Professor McGonagall pointed out that her pronunciation was all wrong, and her hand was shaking too much to have any real intent, and that intent is everything when it came to spell work, spells without intent are sloppy, and sloppiness is never acceptable. Elena hated Transfiguration.

Flying and Defense Against the Dark Arts were decent enough, even though a Slytherin boy named Avery liked to make her think he could see up her skirt when she flew a little too high, and Sirius Black took advantage of the fact that he sat behind her in DADA to tug on her hair.

By the time dinner came around in the Great Hall, Elena was pooped. The other first year Gryffindor girls usually formed a tight knit group that giggled and gossiped, but never seemed willing to include her. Instead, Elena sat with the second and third years that liked to ask her about Spain and gave her advice for her classes, sharing embarrassing stories that made Elena feel better about her own failures. Fabian and Gideon Prewett, the redheaded twins she had seen on the Platform, were among the rowdier of the group of third years, and made it their mission in life to make her laugh while she drank her water. Elena hated pumpkin juice, although she did like pumpkin pie, and spent the better part of Friday evenings looking up spells to transfigure pumpkin juice to grape juice. She refused to ask for help from Professor McGonagall, despite her being their Head of House, much to the amusement of her new friends. Valerie Smith, Mary McDonald, and Estella Greengrass were the nicest group of second years Elena had ever met, especially since they never made fun of her accent or awkward way of talking sometimes.

"Elena, darling," Estella called everyone darling, partially because her family was pureblood and liked that sort of thing, but mostly because she was determined to be the next Grace Kelly, "You should just ask one of the fifth years to transfigure that juice for you. Flutter those eyelashes and give them a demure smile and you'll have your grape juice in no time."

"Estella!" Valerie shook her head in disapproval. "Elena, just ask Professor McGonagall for some help, I'm sure she won't mind. No need to listen to our resident trollop for advice," she said, nudging an indignant Estella playfully.

Mary rolled her eyes at the two bickering friends, and turned to Elena as Estella called Valerie a word that made a nearby fourth year blush. 

"Don't mind them, they're both ridiculous. I'll help you look up some spells in the library later if you'd like."

Elena nodded shyly, looking over Mary's shoulder at Lily Evans's group as they giggled over something Marlene McKinnon said, quickly averting her eyes before anyone noticed the direction she had been looking in. Elena was embarrassed to tell her new friends about why she didn’t get along with her dorm mates. To be honest, she wasn’t quite sure of the reason herself. Maybe they had been offended that she hadn’t stayed up to talk to them that first night. Or maybe they knew each other from before. Whatever the case, conversation usually stopped whenever she entered the room.

As if on cue, in flew the hundreds of owls that carried the post, and Elena grinned at the sight of Pio with the rest of them. He looked minuscule in comparison, and without the special silver talons Papá had bought him, it would have been impossible for him to carry the letters he held in his grasp. Swooping down close enough so that he could drop the letters in Elena's outstretched hands, Pio did his customary showing off and by the time he flitted away, Elena's olive skin was flushed red.

Down the table, stormy grey eyes watched as Elena said something quiet to the second year girls and they all burst into hearty laughter, Valerie Smith ruffling Elena's long locks. Staring at the dimple in her right cheek, Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away from Elena James from the moment he first saw her smile with abandon. Her chocolate eyes looked down at the stack of letters in her hands and he watched as she rifled through the customary pile until she reached what she looked for. It was the same handwriting as the previous week, and the week before, and the week before when he had begun to watch Elena out of the corner of his eye. She grinned mischievously, something he had thought impossible for the sweet and impossibly shy girl, and ripped it open.

Elena snickered at the silly things Antonio loved to tell her about; hiding from his father in her Papá's vineyard, catching trout with his bare hands on the beach, annoying Lucia by hiding worms in her shoes, and naming clouds. These were all things they did together, but now, he wrote, it was up to him to keep it up. Maybe this was why the girls in her dormitory didn't like to talk to her much. Elena's insecurities with English stopped her from doing all the fun things she usually liked to do, and people are more willing to talk to people who are fun. Not girls who mess up their potions in Slughorn's class and can't even transfigure a match.

A bit disheartened, Elena cleared her throat, and spoke loud enough that Estella and Valerie stopped bickering. "Why do you girls talk to me? I’m not very good at English or magic..." 

Elena turned her sad eyes onto the older girls, hating that she was practically begging for the validation that might make all her insecurities fly away. The three girls exchanged meaningful glances, and finally Mary spoke.

"Elena, we love you just the way you are!" Elena glanced up in shock.

Estella checked her nails casually, "Yeah, darling, we wouldn't just hang out with anyone," she added with a wink.

Valerie slung her arm around Elena's shoulders, "Look, I think you speak English pretty great for someone who's lived in Spain all their life, and everyone has classes they're not good at. Hell, I'm pretty sure my older sister burned off ol' Sluggy's mustache a couple years back, and now she works for the Ministry!" 

Nodding to the other girls, Valerie said, "And if it bothers you that much, then I can help you with practicing English and all the grammar and things, Mary is a whiz at History of Magic, and Estella can do your nails when you're feeling a bit down."

"Hey!" Estella flung a biscuit at Valerie's head, "I can also help you with Transfiguration, darling, I have the highest average in our year, even though this ogre likes to forget it."

"As for Potions," Mary said before Estella and Valerie's bickering could escalate into a food fight so early in the year, "you could probably ask one of the Prewett boys to help you out. They're both brilliant at practically everything, but everyone knows that Fabian is the best in his year at potions."

Elena smiled at her friends, and agreed before they could change their mind. She picked a pea out of Estella's blonde hair that Valerie launched in retaliation, and flicked it at Mary cheekily. The group of friends collapsed into hysterics when Mary shrieked and grabbed a spoonful of mashed potatoes and it accidentally hit Frank Longbottom, a third year Mary ogled when she thought no one was watching.

Elena sends a quiet prayer of thanks that she met these wonderful, crazy girls, even if it meant she had to sleep in an unwelcoming dorm. She looked back down at the letters in her hands and was nearly swept away by an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. She thought of Iliane and of hot, sweaty summers with Antonio and the kids in her village, of Papá and his large, rough hands. For the first time in a long time, Elena felt as she did in Iliane. Maybe Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe a girl from a small village in Spain could do well in frosty England.

Valerie began to clamor, "Oi! Check it out girls, it's stopped raining! Maybe we can take this party to the big tree by the Great Lake?"

The stormy cumulonimbus clouds that had encroached onto the ceiling of the Great Hall had parted, and the sun's rays that peeked out were long and bright. 

Mary agreed that a picnic was a great idea, suggesting they make sandwiches to take with them to eat. Estella and Valerie argued about what meat would go better on the sandwiches, turkey or roast beef? Fabian Prewitt piped in with a suggestion of cucumber sandwiches, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as this sparked a whole new argument. He gave Elena a suspiciously large grin that caught her off-guard, making her blush.

Mary rolled her eyes in fond amusement, and turned to Elena who was gathering four apples to accompany their sandwiches ("I told you, you prat, we're not eating cucumber sandwiches in the middle of October!" "You are absolutely right, Valerie darling, turkey is obviously the best option." "We're eating roast beef, you twit, don't even think about giving me that crap about 'leaner meats'!").

"Elena, if you'd like I can bring my History of Magic notes from first and second year, I like to think they're easier to understand than Professor Binns."

Elena nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! Thank you very much Mary, I am very appreciative of your help."

"Of course Elena, you can alway count on us, okay?"

For once, Elena could feel the warmth of the sun on her face and back. Although, she realizes, it's probably these girls and this crazy new home she has in England. She tilted her head up and watched as a beautiful blue sky and bright sun began to peek out. She smiled to herself not caring if she looked crazy, before joining in on the turkey/roast beef/cucumber argument, suggesting chicken as an intermediary. Valerie and Estella are thrilled. The odd group gathers their supplies and heads out to their makeshift picnic, laughing loudly and telling silly jokes.

As they pass by the cluster of Gryffindor first years sitting far end of the table, Elena braced herself and made a point to stand a little taller and smile brighter than she ever had before. She could feel the stares of Lily Evans and the others on her back but for once she didn’t care what they thought. 

Sirius Black paused in the middle of one of his tall tales when he sees her walk by, and Remus Lupin asks him what's wrong. He shook his head and continued his story about fighting a Slytherin 5th year in the Forbidden Forest, but it's not very good. He couldn’t get that smile out of his mind. It was annoying. Later that night, Sirius thought of something that maked him curse girls and the stupid poetry his Aunt Andromeda loved to make him read.

_ She smiles like the sun. _


	4. Alvarez

_ April 1972 _

Elena's first Easter at Hogwarts had been uneventful, to say the least. "Spring Break" as they called it passed by so quickly Elena felt she got whiplash. Everywhere she looked there were students studying for some exam or another, and she had plenty of her own assignments to feel overwhelmed.

There was not much that could be done in the form of celebration, aside from the typical observation of Lent in the weeks before. Holy Week saw none of its usual fanfare or colorful procession, so she was very jealous when she received Lucia's letter describing how this year, Iliane had truly outdone itself. Even Antonio, who had never been the most devout Catholic, was impressed. Feeling very lonely, Elena put this letter at the bottom of her trunk and ate even less that evening for dinner.

Mary and the others didn't really understand how difficult it was for her to miss Holy Week in Iliane, and she didn't know how to explain it to them either. She wasn't sure if she wanted to.

Every morning, Elena went up to the Astronomy tower to do her morning prayers and watch the sunrise, observing how the sky lit up with ancient brushstrokes and colors she had never seen. The light in Scotland was different than in Spain. It was darker and colder. Nevertheless, she found it beautiful how it reflected on droplets of mildew on the lush emerald grounds.

When Easter finally came, Elena could only help herself to large portions of breakfast, lunch, and dinner, her Abuela's croaky voice banished from the back of her mind. She ignored the amused looks her friends cast her as she ate her fill and then some, as well as Sirius's teasing remarks.

"Hungry, are we Alvarez?"

It had been in November when the Marauders - what those silly boys named their little group after Professor McGonagall has muttered something along the lines of "marauding troublemakers"- had stolen one of her letters signed with her full given name, and they (they meaning Sirius) had taken to calling her by her mother's maiden name. Sirius claimed it was because he couldn't talk to her and have James Potter turn around each time. Estella was sure he liked her. Elena thought it was just to be annoying.

"As a matter of fact, I am Sirius," Elena's English, although improved and not nearly as awkward as before, was still heavily accented, "is there a problem?" She asked, her eyebrow curved elegantly as she lifted a forkful of potatoes to her mouth.

"Believe me," he smirked, "none at all."

Elena gave him an odd look and went back to eating her food, mentally planning on trying a bit of everything during dessert. Especially the chocolate pudding.

Down the table, Marlene McKinnon rolled her eyes and whispered something to Alice Fortescue that made her squeak out a laugh. Lily Evans smiled bemusedly at her friends as she helped Dorcas Meadows finish her last-minute Transfiguration assignment.

"McGonagall will kill me," she moaned, "I still have half an inch left and I don't understand half of this."

"Unsurprising considering you spent all day yesterday stalking Benjy Fenwick," Dorcas shrieked and threw her quill at a laughing Marlene.

Lily huffed, muttering that she had no problem throwing around  _ other people's quills _ instead of doing her work. After a two minute scuffle that briefly involved a sour looking sixth year, the girls settled down once more.

"Well, at least you're not doing as bad as  _ her _ Dorcas," Marlene said smoothly, patting down her blond curls, "at least you can actually cast a spell without some awful accent getting in the way."

Alice snorted out a laugh she barely concealed with her hand, as Dorcas looked as if this made her feel slightly better, if not a little guilty. Lily merely raised an eyebrow but said nothing to the contrary.

It wasn't often that their shy roommate made her way into their conversations, but when she did, it was never without some tone of derision.

Elena knew all this, although they liked to pretend she didn't. The words unspoken served as a better measure of the lines drawn between the girls of Dormitory 1A. It was how things worked, after all. And no one was about to break the silent treaty to simply address what everyone already knew. Elena was not welcome. She probably never would be.

And who's to argue with what nobody says?

Meanwhile, Sirius Black liked to take every opportunity presented with creating new hurdles for Elena to jump, no doubt waiting in anticipation for her to fall. Pulling her hair, ruining her potions - which, while improving, were still terrible - and worst of all, getting her detentions  _ she did not deserve.  _ Still, she kept her head held high and focused on improving both her English and her grades. Especially since Elena had her own troubles to worry about.

Papá had not asked her to return to Iliane for Christmas this year, reassuring her they would once again meet in the summer months. She could only hope. As winter bled into spring, she prayed that whatever kept her away from Spain would soon pass.

Antonio continued to write.

Exams were soon upon the students of Hogwarts, which Elena met with slight trepidation combined with relief. She had taken to spending afternoons by the Great Lake, studying from dawn to dusk and in between her classes. The outdoors served as a constant, soothing comfort, and also helped to keep her away from the trouble that had shacked up at Madam Pince's Great Library. Although she liked to read, Elena found she could not spend much longer than hour-long intervals in the dusty library, entirely too freaked out by Madam Pince's hawkish stare and the thought of Sirius Black prowling nearby.

Thus, the Weeping Willow by the Great Lake - much friendlier than its violent counterpart - had become her preferred place of solace in the long days leading up to the end of her first Hogwarts year. The girls often joined her on days the weather was agreeable, shaking their heads at her for staying even when it was not. Estelle was always the first to go in, claiming she would never keep ("Or find," as Valerie liked to remind her) any suitors if her hair was all frizzed up. Valerie would soon follow, eventually joined by Mary, whose allergies acted up once it began to rain.

Elena would always stay, breathing in the scent of petrichor and the light sprinkle of rain that would tickle her face. Under the long and twisted branches of the Weeping Willow, even the harshest storms were kept away by the pendulous leaves as she read. With most of her books being in English, Elena felt that her grammar had substantially improved. Not to mention, hanging out with the second year girls had also allowed her a stronger grasp on the colloquialisms of British magical youth.

Pio often joined her under the Willow, flitting around under the green oasis his mistress had found, and had even made himself a nest from the brambles that littered the mossy floor. It seemed Pio also preferred Elena's hiding spot to the freezing tower that housed the school owls that brought in the post. Being much smaller and different from the other birds in the Owlery, Pio had apparently been bullied by the larger birds and he spent the first few months hidden in Elena's dormitory. This, of course, did not help to endear her to her roommates, especially not Marlene McKinnon who woke up more than once to find tiny droppings all over her night table and (regrettably) in her hairbrush.

The lazy afternoons Elena thus spent under the Weeping Willow embedded in her a permanent smell of the outdoors and rain, as well as more defined curl in her dark hair. Estelle liked to remark that only Elena would somehow manage to make frizzy hair look good, much to her embarrassment and a deep blush.

The letters from her friends and the other village children of Iliane had somewhat dwindled, as the excitement, she imagined, of Elena's sudden departure had too lost its glamour. The most constant pen pals she maintained, nevertheless, were, of course, Mamá and Antonio, with Papá and Lucia writing less frequently.

Mamá's letters were usually very long and filled with questions and local gossip, as well as advice to the questions Elena always sent her. Having attended Hogwarts many years ago, Mamá always entertained Elena with a story from her time at the magical school that she managed to tie in with whatever particular piece of knowledge she was attempting to impart on her only daughter. Lucia's letters weren't all that different and often held stories of some local boy who had dared to wink at her or the increasing tension between Lucia's parents. It was all Elena could do not to sprout wings and fly back to Iliane to give her friend a hug.

Papá was a different story altogether. His letters were short and scattered with his teasing humor, as well as vague allusions to the business and Antonio's growing presence in the vineyard. It seemed Tío was beginning Antonio's training and it had long been her Papá's plans to have Antonio take over the business.

Antonio's letters were her favorite of all to read, and she often couldn't contain herself once Pio came fluttering into the Great Hall with the familiar yellowed parchment Antonio used in his letters. She easily used an unbuttered knife to slice open the envelope with her name written across the front in Antonio's chicken scratch scrawl. His letters were the most interesting, and mischievous, by far, and she was many times met with surprised and confused looks as she laughed by herself during breakfast.

The antics he got up to around Iliane reminded her sometimes of Sirius Black and James Potter's group of Marauders, although she firmly believed that they had nothing in common. Nothing at all. It was disappointing to see that the kind boy she had met on the train had morphed into this manifestation of evil -  _ okay _ maybe she was exaggerating, but tell that to her potions grade - that she tried very hard to ignore. Especially during detention.

Elena had been surprised when, covered in a horrible smelling green slime that had unexpectedly been dumped on her head on her way to the Great Hall for lunch, Professor McGonagall's sharp voice cut across the stone hall and said, "Mr. Black, Ms. James, detention." She had been so surprised, she made the mistake of opening her mouth and a drop of the goop fell in, earning her a trip to the Hospital Wing and no pudding that day.

Needless to say, Elena was furious.

* * *

Sirius Black couldn't be more pleased. The wholly genius prank he had prepared for a couple of slimy Slytherins, including James's archnemesis  _ Snivellus _ , had been triggered by none other than Elena Alvarez. Okay so he was the only one who called her that, but he couldn't very well go around calling her and James by the same name- it was too  _ weird.  _ He watched her the evening before they were due to go to detention with Filch, scrubbing toilets no doubt, and snickered when she told her friends all about the magnificent prank she'd had the fortune of falling into.

Well, she didn't quite use those words, but Sirius gained a sick sort of pleasure watching her nose scrunch up and her cheeks flush as she relayed the whole tale. It seemed, true to popular knowledge, that Spaniards had a particular vocabulary that would have been more appropriate on a randy pirate ship than on the lips of an eleven-year-old girl.

Said lips dropped open in horror at the realization that their detention scheduled for 7 on the dot meant she would not only miss out on dinner but on dessert entirely. She sure loved her pudding.

As if doing so would somehow make up for the lack of pudding the next evening, Elena served herself twice as much of the chocolatey dessert as usual and began spooning it into her mouth. She made sure to enjoy each spoonful as if it would be the last in her life, and Sirius glanced at her occasionally from the corner of his eye, laughing to himself at how much of a fool she was making herself look like.

Clearly, Fabian Prewett thought so as well, he was making such a big show of pointing out the chocolate at the corner of her mouth- even going so far as to wipe it himself. Eugh, did he just lick his thumb? Honestly, who did he think he was, making her blush like that? She was his toy, his to mess with, and he couldn't have a fellow prankster trying to freak her out too. Even if Prewett  _ did _ technically have seniority, being a third year and all, Sirius obviously had the advantage of being in her year.

Besides, no way Fabian Prewett of all people, who had plenty of girls (insert ew here) lining up be his girlfriend would ever pay shy Elena James any attention.

Right?


	5. Twiggy

_ Summer 1972 _

Elena's summer in Iliane was like a wonderful breath of fresh air after the stifling and mildly stressful year at Hogwarts. She spent most of it with Antonio and Lucia, who seemed to be at each other's throats just as always. Mamá cried for a week after she had come back, insisting on taking her shopping to Madrid to some of Spain's most famous boutique's. Elena knew that Estella would appreciate the major expansion of her wardrobe. She and Papá even took her out to a fancy restaurant on her 12th birthday, gifting her a beautiful pair of nude espadrilles with small pearls all along the side and Abuela's infamous red stitchings. After dinner, happy and significantly bloated, they went to Abuela's house so Elena could properly thank her and greet her after coming back from Hogwarts.

As Mamá and Papá had coffee in the sitting room, Elena underwent Abuela's critical, yet loving eye as her magical measuring tape whizzed all around her. Her face burned red when she noticed she had not only gained 5 pounds, but her hips and thighs had grown by a few inches. Abuela merely raised her finely manicured eyebrow at her, and then pulled her into a smokey hug, asking her about her year and how she was enjoying her classes.

Overall, Elena had a good birthday, sending prayers of thanks that Abuela had not said more than to "Keep away from evening pudding," as she saw them out. 

She was still mortified and embarrassed as she thought back to all those times she had helped herself to an extra serving at dinner, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the torture of having Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon in all her classes. That night, she helped Antonio climb through her window and the two of them sat on her bed stifling giggles into the wee hours of the morning when she then helped him sneak out. Mamá didn't comment on the equally dark circles under their eyes as they then pretended to say hello for the first time since she had come back from Hogwarts.

She had missed Antonio almost as much as her Papá. Together, they wrecked almost as much havoc as the Prewett twins, and they took turns chasing each other through her family's fields. They spent most of their time at the rocky beaches on the coast, tanning and laughing as Lucia complained about the strong smell of fish. More often than not, Antonio and Elena would go off by themselves, walking barefoot by the shore, listening to the waves crashing onto the sand and feeling the cool spray of the ocean. Antonio spent much of his time collecting seashells and weaving the flowers he would find into her hair. They would sit on the grey, jagged rocks by the pier and just talk, the words flowing easily between them, Antonio's sandy hands in her hair.

Time passed so quickly it soon felt like she was saying goodbye to Mama, Papa, Abuela, Lucia and Antonio again. 

The evening before Elena would have to Floo to Kings' Cross Station again, Antonio and she went back down to the shore. They mostly sat in silence, the grass prickling at them through their shorts and they watched the setting sun be consumed by the cool blue-green ocean. Her eyes burning with salt and sand, Elena felt Antonio's hand slip into her own, letting go almost just as quickly and feeling something else in its place. Looking down she saw an anklet made entirely of the white and pink shells he had spent that summer collecting. Pressing her hand closed so hard she could feel the indentations the shells would make on her palm, Elena leaned her head on Antonio's shoulder and closed her eyes. Neither of them needed to say what was already whispered by the air.

* * *

Elena's second year at Hogwarts wasn't all that different from her first. The main difference being that, while officially still belonging to the second year girls' dormitory, she had begun sleeping in the third year girls' dormitory. When asked about the mysterious extra bed, McGonagall claimed that it was simply because the castle was accustomed to having more Gryffindor girls and that theirs was a particularly small year. Estella claimed all that was codswallop, and that it must have been some old Hogwarts magic that wanted to create a space for Elena to be somewhere she would feel welcome.

Elena had also begun to hang out a lot more with the Prewett twins, and although they still teased her, they did it in a way in which she felt she could laugh  _ with _ them. She spent a lot of time with Fabian in particular, who had taken to spending Tuesday nights teaching her the basics of not exploding her cauldron in potions. Neither of them could claim a lot of success, especially since Elena was still pulling Trolls and Dreadfuls, and Sirius Black was yanking harder and harder on her hair. One night, however, Elena tackled Fabian in the middle of Gryffindor Tower with the news of her very first Poor. While it was no Lily Evans or Severus Snape Outstanding, he and his brother still proceeded to pull her on their broadening shoulders and chanted ridiculous sayings that had nearly everyone in tears. Everyone except a sour looking Sirius Black that merely scoffed and went back to playing Wizard's Chess with Remus. He lost.

For some unknown reason, Elena was happy to note that Sirius had stopped pulling her hair.

* * *

Sirius Black was annoyed. Watching Elena smile and laugh so freely, running about barefoot with the Prewett twins, getting twigs in her hair from spending so much time under that ugly tree by the Great Lake. Really, he could hardly understand why, knowing this, his eyes seemed to follow her whenever she entered a room. She was an icky girl, more so she was a  _ weird _ girl. She rarely took the time to brush out her long, wavy locks, and he often found himself fantasizing about pulling on one of her unruly curls.

Still, he knew that thoughts about Elena James were dangerous. She was Alvarez. Weird. Annoying. Too quiet and too loud all at the same time. He would sometimes catch her smiling at Remus in the halls as they all headed to class and his stomach clenched at the thought of her stealing away one of his best friends.

Worst of all, his plans to befriend the Prewett twins, pranking masters that would surely have plenty of tips and tricks for a fellow connoisseur such as himself, seemed to have been foiled. Any time he attempted to approach either Fabian or Gideon, they were either in the throes of a major prank themselves or surrounded by mates asking them about girls of all things. Even worse, Fabian Prewett had been rumored to be spending alone time with Alvarez on Tuesday evenings, but whether or not they were actually studying was a hotly debated topic. Needless to say, he was wildly disappointed with his fellow pranksters. However, one day he did manage to overhear something one of the twins was telling another Gryffindor fourth year, "Listen, mate, all you gotta do is charm her socks off! That's the only way you'll get anywhere in life, by learning how to be a hot stud like me... although that's probably impossible- Ow! Hey! I'm just joking mate, you know you've got a cute little arse-"

It was a pretty weird conversation.

While he didn't begin to apply such advice to his pranking career until he himself was in fourth year, second year Sirius did find himself paying a bit more attention to birds than before. Thus it was a mild shock when, hair ruffled and collar undone, Sirius stumbled in through the Gryffindor portrait hole and admitted to his first proper snog. James was wildly jealous and instantly looked at Lily Evans with deep longing. Remus simply rolled his eyes and went back to bemusedly reading his book, while Peter stared in awe at Sirius as he regaled his friends (and the rest of the Common Room, for that matter) of how he had bumped into a pretty Ravenclaw fifth year, made her laugh, and how she eventually pulled him into a broom closet not too far from the Great Hall.

His mates laughed as he waved dramatically and slightly exaggerated throughout his story, oblivious to the jealous stares directed at him as both males and females wished they had either been able to snog an upperclassman or that they could have snogged Sirius Black.

It was easy for him to be in the spotlight, and he preened as his tale became slightly more ridiculous with each passing moment. The warmth in the Common Room reminded him of that hearth he had read so much about in muggle storybooks, the ones he hid under his bed from Kreacher's prying eyes. The feeling of being lauded and looked up to felt almost as dizzyingly pleasurable as being wanted. Beyond simple desire, the thought of people wanting to spend time with him, wanting to be his friend or even an admirer felt like the validation he had always searched for. Even though it was probably just as fleeting and superficial as simple teenage desires, Sirius felt good in the spotlight where he was an arm's distance away, but no longer just the Blacks' traitor son.

He would never say any of this, but James Potter had become his saving grace. The prat.

* * *

"Fabian!"

"What is it, Twiggy?" Fabian Prewett was perched languidly on the edge of a wooden table in the middle of the Potions classroom. The room, which was located in the infamously dank and dingy dungeons, was currently occupied by its most regular Tuesday night inhabitants. An odd smell wafted from the open cauldron propped up on the burner that was dangerously close to the edge of Fabian's dark robes.

Elena rolled her eyes at the nickname in exasperation, "Give me back my wand! I need it for the next step of the potion, or else it'll explode and my grade will never get any higher than a Poor!" she said, holding her hand out expectantly. While most girls would have been swooning at the thought of being compared to such an iconic symbol of the time, Elena knew it had less to do with her looks and more to do with the twigs she often found in her hair. The real Twiggy was impossibly pale and blonde, a British style icon that had made "skinny" the hottest trend, whereas Elena was dark and proving to be more on the voluptuous side. Unfortunately, Fabian seemed to have grown partial to the nickname due to some twisted, ironic reasoning that they were so opposite that it would be a crime not to take advantage of such an opportunity.

"Oh, no, now Twiggy, you know I can't simply  _ give you _ your wand back- it would tarnish my reputation!" Fabian's blue eyes were sparkling with mischief as he leaned further back onto the table, his height proving to be a clear advantage over Elena's petite frame. He cackled gleefully when she tried to jump up and snatch her wand back, failing miserably as he merely raised his arm a bit higher.

"Come on, Fabian, please. Give it back already!" she pleaded, eyeing the bubbling cauldron nervously.

"Nope."

"That thing is going to blow any second." Almost as if on cue, whatever substance was in the cauldron let out a loud belch and bubbled more aggressively, daring the two wizards to do something. Fabian faltered and seemed to consider something for a second. Looking down at Elena, who was biting her plump bottom lip raw from stress (a terrible habit really), a lightbulb seemed to turn on over his head.

Leaning down with a particularly mischievous grin, his freckled face suddenly came closer than it had ever been before. "I'll give you back your wand, Twiggy," he taunted, his eyes flickering down towards her lips, "In exchange for a kiss," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his classic pranking grin plastered on his face, fully expecting her to dissolve into a puddle of blush and nerves.

What he wasn't expecting was for Elena to mutter an indecipherable curse in Spanish, and balancing on the tips of her black Mary Janes, angle her body close to his. If he breathed, then his chest would brush against hers, and they were close enough he could look into her dark brown eyes and she could count each of the freckles on his face. She reached her arms around his neck, pulling herself even closer to him than he thought possible. Fabian was flooded by her scent, warm vanilla and spicy notes of something so  _ Elena _ he could barely breathe. He was closing his eyes when she was gone just as quickly as she had pressed herself against him, her wand in her hand and cheeks barely flushed as she concentrated on fixing the potion.

Fabian was sure he looked like an idiot, his copper hair mussed and what was sure to be a glazed look in his eyes. Meanwhile, Elena was practically indifferent to whatever had just happened.  _ Bloody hell. _

Shaking his head, Fabian ran a hand through his hair and grinned wickedly at how well his junior prankster was quickly learning the art of getting out of trouble. Who knew Potions tutoring could be so fun? Sliding off the wooden table, Fabian sidled next to Elena and guided her movements as she waved her wand over the now simmering cauldron. He would have to tell Gideon later that it was time to initiate Twiggy into all the silent secrets Hogwarts had to offer.

Fabian's smile widened when Elena yelped after he pinched her side, guffawing goodnaturedly as she spent the rest of that Tuesday session grumbling about "ginger lob headed prats."

Oh yes, this would be fun.


	6. Transfiguration

_ November 1972 _

McGonagall hated her. She had to. There was no other explanation for the letter she had threatened to write home, letting her parents know that Elena was on academic probation with the possibility of having to take a summer intensive to make up for her Dreadful. It was only when Elena begged, her face hot with shame and tears, that Professor McGonagall’s eyes finally softened and she told her that if she managed to bring her grades up to a Poor by the end of the term, then she would reconsider having her take summer classes.

Walking out of her office, Elena had never felt so humiliated in her life. She was sure that there had to be other students doing worse than her. There had to be. It was just unfair that she should be singled out like that, made into a laughingstock for the other second years, especially Marlene McKinnon. It was as if the witch took great pleasure in performing the spells  _ just right _ and then whipping her head around to look Elena straight in the eye as McGonagall awarded her the points that never came to Elena. It was totally unfair. 

Transfiguration was the only class she was outright failing and she had never even heard of anyone taking summer classes either! It was as if McGonagall was hell bent on finding new and exciting ways to torture her. Tightening her hand on the leather strap of her school bag, Elena turned abruptly, almost running into an unsuspecting seventh year, and redirected her path from the Great Hall where a hot dinner awaited her, towards the library. 

_ Mamá is going to be so disappointed.  _

Elena’s mama had been the only person to ever leave their little village for greater things, which was all the more extraordinary being a woman. No one left Iliane, and those that did always came back home. Mamá had come back and married Papá, but she always talked about her time at Hogwarts as being some of the most magical times in her life (no pun intended). She had excelled academically, socially, and athletically, yet now, decades later, Elena was failing in every aspect. 

She stormed into the library, earning herself a sharp look from Madam Pince, and wove her way through the stacks, hoping to lose herself among the dusty books and maybe find a safe place to hide. Finally, after finding herself in a corner that definitely needed some serious dusting, Elena collapsed against a section of books that looked as if no one had ever ventured to find out what was written on their parchment sheets. Not even bothering to let go of her school bag, she hugged it to her chest and buried her face in the ink-stained leather. Sirius Black had exploded her ink pot so many times there was certainly no way to ever get the spatter out from the dark hide. The more she buried her face into her arms, the more alone she felt. 

True, she had the girls and Fabian to go to for friendship and support, but there were moments where it felt like the world around her was spinning so violently she could barely breathe, let alone stand on her own. It felt like there was nothing she could do right. 

Earlier that morning, Elena had settled down in her usual place in between Valerie and Fabian for breakfast, receiving her customary hair ruffle from each of them. Estella scoffed whenever either of them did so, muttering about “proper hair care” and lamenting that Valerie wouldn’t let her come near her hair with a bottle of Sleekeazy’s. Valerie would then call her a name that made sweet Mary turn bright red, sneaking a furtive look over her shoulder to check that Frank Longbottom had not heard the expletive, before whispering one of her own. 

Mornings like these were always lively, especially when Fabian and Gideon decided to get involved. Fabian would pinch Elena’s sides until she squealed with laughter and smacked his ginger head with her wand, letting out sparks that Gideon would mime trying to catch and innocent passerbyers. It was no surprise when they’d cost Gryffindor about 5 points each, much to the displeasure of one Lily Evans that had made it her sole purpose to win Gryffindor the House Cup through sheer willpower and brilliance in all her classes. 

She’d send the group a deathly glare, emerald eyes glittering dangerously, until she was sure that they’d settled down for the day. Elena always felt odd looking at her in the eyes, especially when they reminded her so much of Antonio who she missed entirely too much to be appropriate. 

The few times she had ever talked about Antonio was with the girls, who always made her feel impossibly strange for caring so much about her childhood friend. Most of all Estella, who was convinced that Antonio would be so silly as to have a crush on her! Ha! Imagine that. Still, something about the knowing look in her eyes made Elena hold her tongue when the girls were discussing first kisses. She tried to tell herself it was simply she didn’t need another reason to be teased about her friendship with Antonio. Especially after she had done the same thing to Fabian. It had changed nothing, so there was absolutely no reason to talk about either kiss. 

Besides, she had more pressing matters to think about. Failing Transfiguration, for one. Transfiguration was Mamá’s best subject in school, which was something she was always eager to show off when Elena was little and too young to wander the vineyards by herself. Mamá would do the most beautiful magic and no one understood why she had not left Iliane permanently to make something of herself. If anyone could have, it would have been her. But Mamá told Elena on her fifth birthday that the reason she had come back was because a very powerful Seer had told her that she was meant to marry Elena’s papa and have a baby girl. Mamá said that she would have stayed in Iliane even without the Seer’s vision because she loved her papa. A nice thought regardless, Elena couldn’t understand how Mamá was satisfied with simply being a mother and a wife when she was so talented. 

No matter how much it perplexed her, Elena knew that she had to do better for Mamá, who had in many ways, given up a lot for her to be at Hogwarts. So when McGonagall threatened to write home and let her know all about how Elena had let them down, something cracked. 

And so, missing dinner for not the first time since coming to Hogwarts, but for the first time by choice, Elena cried for what felt like hours, crouched in the abandoned Herbology section of the library. Once she felt like there were absolutely no more tears left for her to cry and her breathing had settled into a steady pant, Elena picked herself up off the ground and found herself face to face with Sirius Black. 


	7. Regulus

Only it isn’t Sirius. It’s a boy Elena recognized as Regulus Black, Sirius’s somber younger brother. She remembered this because Sirius made a big show during the Sorting ceremony that year to snort derisively when he was sorted into Slytherin. “Just like the rest of that lot,” he had sneered. 

Elena didn’t understand why Sirius thought he was so much better than his brother just because they got Sorted into different Houses. If anything, Sirius was the more annoying of the two, with his growing list of crimes against Elena. There’s no reason to push family away like that. Elena would  _ kill _ to have a sibling at Hogwarts with her. Or to have a sibling period. 

Of course Sirius Black would find a way to make something so special completely unbearable. It’s none of her business though, and she made a move to leave the corner she realized wasn't nearly as abandoned as she had thought. But before she can leave, there is a hand in front of her, stopping her in her tracks with the offering of a neatly folded handkerchief. Heat blossoming on her cheeks, Elena quietly accepts the hanky, which she notices has his initials embroidered in silver thread  _ R. A. B.  _

“Thank you.” She said, hoping against all odds he hadn’t witnessed her panic attack moments prior.

“You’re welcome.” He doesn’t look nearly as uncomfortable as she had expected him to be, especially since she figured that Sirius’s sibling would share his distaste for a rival House. 

They settled into an odd silence, interrupted occasionally with hiccups as she blew her nose into the hanky. Elena’s mind is too tired to analyze the implications of her sitting on the floor with a Slytherin. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

“I wish I knew.”

Snapping her face up to look at Regulus, Elena realized she had said her thoughts aloud. Instead of looking judgmental, Regulus pulled a book from the shelf they are leaning against, something about the magical properties of gillyweed. He gestured for her to take it. 

“Maybe you should try reading about something simple.”

Elena gave him an uncertain look. 

“Since when has gillyweed been simple? I don’t think we’ve covered this yet in Herbology.”

“This isn’t for Herbology. I just figured you’d like reading about water-based plants since you spend so much time by the lake anyways.”

Elena takes the book, not really processing his comment about her habits, eyeing its frayed cover and water damaged pages. Whoever had read this book had clearly taken a dive with it at some point. 

“Thank you.” She said, wondering if it’s meant to be some sort of peace offering. 

Regulus just nods silently. Looking closely, Elena can see that his hair is the same jet black as his brother’s, albeit less unruly and cut short in the style Elena noticed many of the young lords from prominent pureblood families sporting. He sits with her a while longer, while she flips through the pages, making small humming noises whenever she made a comment he seemed to agree with. 

It’s late when Elena finishes the book, her breathing finally steady and the blotchy spots on her face faded. She handed the book back to Regulus, who places it in its rightful place, the dust once again disturbed. Fingering the hanky, Elena apologizes for the snot and tears that have blemished the once pristine fabric, but Regulus only nods in understanding. 

The two go their separate ways after that, with no need for anymore discussion or mediation about what had just transpired. Nothing needed to be said because for that moment, the color of their ties hadn’t mattered and neither did anything else, save for the magical properties of gillyweed and the dust bunnies in that abandoned corner of the library. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

* * *

When she made her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, it was as if the past few hours had never happened. They remained hidden and secret, put away on the shelf along with the book they had read together. The girls were waiting for her in their spot by the window, the one that looked out towards the Great Lake and the Quidditch Pitch. Already accustomed to her occasional disappearances during dinner on account of frequent detentions thanks to the elder Black brother, they pull her into the conversation with practiced ease. 

“You absolute bint, you cannot be serious.”

“And what if I am?”

“Mary, back me up here, there’s no way this loony actually thinks that Sluggy is gonna let her into his club so she can flirt with Pukey Pucey when she spends most of Potions doing her nails instead.”

Mary rolled her eyes, “Valerie, you have to stop calling people names like that, especially if it’s a highly respected professor. Estella, is that seriously the only reason you want into the Slug Club?”

Estella shrugged in response. “Basically, yeah.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Valerie groaned and slumped over onto the desk they’re sharing. “I yield. Do what you want, but you can count me out of anymore of your schemes for the rest of the year.”

“That’s not fair! And they aren’t schemes, they’re  _ plans _ and  _ strategies _ which is an essential difference from the ordinary scheme. Please. Do you take me for an amateur?”

“No, I take you for a ridiculous bint.” 

Mary gave Elena a look worth a thousand words and a hard roll of the eyes as the bickering duo looked to her to referee another one of their many, many, many debates. However, Elena’s eyes had settled on a different silly group, one that had very quickly claimed the spot directly in front of the fireplace as theirs. Sirius Black always threw his head back when he laughed, grey eyes sparkling with mirth as he and James Potter wrestled each other, Remus Lupin quipping something that made the shy Peter Pettigrew wheeze hilariously. People just seemed to gravitate towards them naturally, as if they exuded the same sort of fluorescent light that moths find impossible to resist. Especially when the moth took the form of Marlene McKinnon, simpering after everything that came out of Sirius Black’s big, stupid mouth. 

Entirely too caught up in the act of switching between glaring at Sirius and thinking of ways to not get expelled for setting Marlene’s hair on fire, Elena isn’t completely aware of her surroundings when Fabian slings his gangly, freckled arm around her shoulders. Letting out a yelp, and thereby interrupting Valerie and Estella’s near shouting match, s he narrowly misses falling flat on her bum in front of the entire common room if not for Fabian's fast reflexes. He’s tugged her flush against his chest, one hand on her waist, the other wrapped around her shoulders. 

“You alright there, Twiggy? Wouldn’t want you falling for me in such a public setting now would we?” 

Elena shoved his freckly face away from hers good-naturedly as the girls resumed their enthusiastic bickering, this time arguing over the validity of skirt length regulations.

“You joke too much.” 

“There’s no such thing.”

"It is when I'm failing out of Transfiguration." Elena's eyes welled up again with tears.  _ Damn. _

Fabian ushered her to a more secluded corner of the common room, his back blocking any prying eyes from their conversation. He waited patiently for her to collect herself. Elena looked up, willing her eyes to not sting again, hoping that she wouldn’t fall apart for the second time that day. 

“What happened, Twiggy?” Fabian asked softly, “I thought you were improving.”

“Yeah, with Potions. But McGonagall said she would write a letter to my home if I continued to get a Dreadful this term. She said I would have to do summer classes! I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Elena’s breathing was getting more frantic by the second. Fabian took her face in his hands gently, cupping her hair against her cheeks and smushing them in a way that felt oddly comforting. 

“Breathe, Elena. Slowly. In. Out. In. Out. That’s better.” 

He hugged her close to his chest and she can hear his heart beating like a wild rabbit.  _ How strange.  _ He smelled like licorice and gunpowder. Elena burrowed her face into his chest even further, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly. Fabian held her until her breathing was finally calm again, her head no longer spinning. 

“Listen,” he said, “I’m no whiz at Transfiguration, but certain frowned upon extracurricular activities have made me and Gid pretty decent at the more practical elements of spellcasting. You can always count on us to point you in the right direction.”

“Oh, Fabian. I don’t know what to say.”

“No need.” Ruffling her hair, he glanced over at the fireplace pensively. 

“Still, I reckon you should get yourself a tutor that’s in your year, you might have better luck with someone in the same boat as you. I hear Remus Lupin is a bright kid. Why not ask him?”

Great. Now there would be all the more opportunity for Sirius to tease her. Still. There was no way she was going to let a stupid boy and a stupid class ruin everything she had worked for. Especially not Sirius Black.


	8. Letters

_ Summer 1973 _

Dear Antonio,

I'm sorry I didn't come home when I said I would. Valerie invited Mary, Estella, and I to stay at her family's place for the summer. Apparently she has four older brothers and she says she'll go crazy if she has to spend all summer with them. Her parents both work a lot, which is really interesting. Estella has been complaining a lot about not being able to use her magic and Valerie makes fun of her for not knowing how to do her laundry.

The Greengrass family has a lot of little servants called House Elves that take care of all her chores for her. I wish we had House Elves, then Mamá wouldn't have to spend all of Sunday cleaning the house and maybe her and Papá could spend more time together. Papá says he doesn't understand why she does things by hand when she has magic, it would make life so much easier! But then again, I've never seen Mamá do magic. I don't even think she has a wand! I think she's happy I get to go to Hogwarts, but she doesn't like to talk about it. Maybe it's because Papá can't do magic, even though Abuela can. I wonder why that is.

Estella told me that he might be a squib, which is someone born in a magic family that doesn't get powers. She has an uncle who is a squib, but she says he hasn't been in contact with her family since she was a baby. I think that's really sad. She says it must have been really hard for him to watch his siblings go to school while he had to stay home. I think Estella misses him a lot, even though she says she doesn't remember him.

Valerie lives in London, so Estella doesn't complain too much because Diagon Alley is really close by. Muggles don't even notice a thing! I think Mary likes Christopher, Valerie's eldest brother, but he's engaged to a girl he went to primary with. He's the sweetest of Valerie's brothers, which is probably why Mary likes him so much. Estella's been teasing her about having "Frank Longbottom withdrawal symptoms" and that she's gotten attached to the closest thing in order to cope. Valerie is just disgusted that we find any of her brothers attractive.

I can't wait for next year. Valerie said that third year is when students are allowed to go to Hogsmeade village and it's finally my turn to go. I really want to try Butterbeer, even though we can technically buy some at the Leaky Cauldron, Fabian insists that it's best to try it at Hogsmeade. He and his brother have been giving me tips about the best secret passages and shortcuts to use to get to class. I don't usually use them because the few times I tried to go down a secret passage without Fabian to guide me, I got lost for three hours and McGonagall gave me double detention for missing her class. I had to write lines until my hands were numb and then I missed dinner. Again. I've started smuggling food during lunch as a precaution because of how much I miss dinner.

At least I'm improving in Transfiguration. I have a tutor now and even though his friends are awful, he's nice enough. I asked him not to tell anyone because I don't need Sirius Black teasing me for any more reasons. He doesn't understand why I need tutoring, but I think he's just a better teacher than McGonagall.

I'm so jealous of you and Lucia. Magic is so hard to learn. Remember, you can't tell anyone about magic school, Antonio, not even Lucia. I shouldn't have said anything to you either, but I'm terrible at keeping secrets from you. And Papá says you'll inherit the business from Tîo anyways, so you're practically family. I bet you'd make McGonagall crazy, then maybe you would get detention instead of me. But then Sirius Black might steal you away from me. Everybody loves him, except for the Slytherins. I would too, if someone went around saying I'm evil all the time. His brother is way nicer, even though I'm not supposed to know that.

I wish I had a brother like him. Most of my friends have siblings, except for Mary who's an only child like me. You're basically family, so I guess I can consider you a brother. I'd consider Lucia a sister but she hasn't been responding to my letters lately. I hope she's not mad at me. I know she's having a hard time with the divorce, so you have to make sure to look out for her okay? Bring her flowers or something. You owe her for all the times you put worms in her shoes.

I miss you. Please send more letters.

Love,

_Elena_

* * *

Dear Elena,

You're making great progress in Transfiguration. While I don't necessarily agree that I'm a better teacher than Professor McGonagall, I do think that you were right to go look for additional instruction. I can definitely see how the material could feel intimidating. I've been looking over the subjects we're set to study for next year and I think it wouldn't be a bad idea to brush up on the basics. You've obviously got a handle on theory, but your wand work could use some work, if I recall. Unfortunately, due to the Trace, that'll have to wait till we get back to school. Let me know if you want to continue with our weekly sessions, so I can prepare in advance.

Thanks for the cookies by the way! As you know, I'm pretty partial to chocolate, but these were great. My mom wants to know if you can get the recipe from your mom. A sweet tooth seems to run in our family haha.

Best,

Remus Lupin

* * *

James,

This summer is a total bore. The Madam decided to get a truly dreadful portrait of herself done to hang in the entryway of Grimmauld Place. Her ugly mug should be a lovely addition to the rest of the decorations in this shithole. I heard it shrieking about "mudbloods" and "blood traitors" the other night when Andromeda came over with Ted. Uncle Alphard said something funny about their voices synchronizing whenever she gets into a rage and somehow I was the one who got sent away for laughing. I'd feel sorry for Father if he wasn't just as much of a bigot as the Madam. Uncle Alphard has the right idea, remaining a bachelor, with the amount of incest pairings this family favors. There's already talks of me getting married to Batshit Bella. The horror. I'd rather get displayed like one of our House Elves. Please tell me when you're going to Diagon. I can't take another second in this place. I feel bad for leaving Regulus to deal with them, but he's always been better equipped to deal with it than I have. Unfortunately for the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, I was destined to be a scoundrel.

Sirius

* * *

Twiggy,

Let's meet up. I heard you're in London, so that means we have plenty of opportunities to further develop your pranking skills. Plus, I doubt you've tried Fortescue's ice cream yet. Owl me.

Kisses,

Fabian

* * *

**Unsent Letters**

* * *

Dearest Evans,

How's your summer going? It must be odd to be back with the Muggles after a year of magic. Speaking of, I think it would be magical if you and I went to Hogsmeade together. What do you say, Evans? Ditch Snape and get with a real wizard. Bollocks. There's no way she'd go for that.

_James_

* * *

Dear Frank,

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you've been having a good summer! I wish I could tell you how I feel about you. Why do I always fall for guys that are out of my league?

_Mary_

* * *

Alvarez,

I'm bored. Let me pull your hair.

_Sirius_


	9. Flying Fortescue's

_ July 1973 _

Fortescue's was packed. And Elena was late. She had promised to meet Fabian for ice cream at noon, but had overslept after a night of sneaking wine from Valerie's parent's liquor cabinet with the girls. Ultimately this was a wildly unsuccessful quest (her parents had emptied it out in anticipation of a house full of unsupervised teenagers) but the adrenaline of almost getting caught by a sleepwalking Christopher kept them awake until daybreak.

The summer had gone by in a similar fashion and Elena was now thirteen. Still, she felt like a child, at least in comparison to her blossoming friends. Nicole, Christopher's fiancée, was probably the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. She was living at Valerie's house with Christopher while they planned the wedding and it was sure to be the event of the year. She had the most wonderful style. Abuela would probably love her.

Elena was not quite so confident in that aspect of herself, but tried her best to not pay it any mind. It was a hot day so she dressed in shorts. But now, in the refrigerated air of Fortescue's, she thought it might not have been the best idea. Goosebumps sprouted all over her thighs and she rubbed them so as to banish these blemishes. A girl she recognized as a Ravenclaw in the year above glared at her for dawdling as she stretched her neck to search for Fabian's lanky figure. She felt a gentle tap on her sunburned shoulder and spun around to see her friend.

Fabian was significantly taller, clearly due to a summer growth spurt that had no doubt affected his twin as well. He pulled her into a brief hug, ruffling her hair that had begun to stick to her forehead. The Ravenclaw girl made an unimpressed noise when he cut in line and Fabian grinned back at her widely. Inexplicably, she blushed, and turned to whisper to her friend furiously. Elena furrowed her brow at the interaction, but thought nothing of it. She didn't know what to make of the flavors that Fortescue's offered.

_Luminous Lime. Abominable Vanilla. Sticky Bourbon. Bubbling Berry._

Somehow, these felt like ominous names for ice cream flavors. Fabian tugged her along and ordered something she didn't quite hear. He paid quickly, waving away her protests, and pushed her to wait for him outside. Had he noticed she had been shivering? Elena had never been a fan of air conditioning, especially when it accompanied a drastic temperature change like those of late summer.

They sat outside of a stationary store on a blanket Fabian had Transfigured for them. Elena bitterly noted the ease with which he cast spells, as if magic just poured out of him. They shared the ice cream Fabian had bought until there was nothing left but a small bit of the waffle cone that Fabian insisted she try. Elena bit into it and was surprised when she felt an extremely strong desire to bounce.

Almost as if he expected this, Fabian extended a hand to her and spun her around till she felt dizzy. She put out her hand to balance herself on the wall they had been leaning on and noticed they were somehow on the roof of the stationary store.

"Surprised?"

"How did we get up here?"

"Fortescue's are famous for the uh, side effects some of their flavors have. They've come into a couple of lawsuits though, so they've started to phase them out. I figured you deserved to try at least one before they became an ordinary ice cream parlour again."

Elena eyed him, noticing the tips of his ears burning red, and grinned back widely. Fabian seemed to relax, pleased that she had not gotten upset at his small deception. He leaped down from the roof, much to Elena's dismay, and held out his arms for her to launch herself into.

"You must be insane."

"It's not that far down! See, I'm fine. Worst I'll get is shin splints. Just trust me."

"Fabian Weasley, you are insane."

"Only in the best way."

"According to you."

Thinking of that day, Elena can still feel the wind lashing at her from her great height. She had looked out at the sprawling Alley and marveled at the secret world that existed in the midst of Muggle London. The effects of the ice cream were beginning to wear off, which would make her jump all the more dangerous if she hesitated any longer. Not trusting herself, but fearing worse, she let herself fall into Fabian's waiting arms and suddenly remembered something Estella had said the night before.

_"Do you ever think he might like you?"_

_"Who? Fabian Weasley?"_

_Estella nodded like she was stupid._

_"Who else?"_

_Elena's heart accelerated painfully. For some reason, she thought of Antonio._

_"There's no way."_

But in that moment, when he caught her so effortlessly, it didn't seem impossible.

"You're a lot heavier than you look, you know."

Yeah, there was no way.

"Shut up, you giant. Put me down before I headbutt you and they have to send you to St Mungos on account of the loss of your three remaining brain cells."

"Jeez, you've gotten a lot more vicious lately. Must be Greengrass and Smith's influence. Right Harpies, that lot."

"Again, you are at the risk of serious and permanent injury. You might not even survive."

"Alright, keep your panties on. What would your mum say, hearing you talk that way? She'd have a cow."

She let him get away with nothing worse than a smack on the arm. He dragged her over to the Quidditch supplies store to look at the new brooms and salivate over the dragon hide gloves that professional players favored.

Elena didn't care much for sports, but she did admire those who could fly as fearlessly as Quidditch athletes. In an unusually thoughtful move, Fabian took her next to Flourish and Blotts. He let her wander through the bookstore she had never seen before. She had bought most of her school supplies through catalogue, so seeing the sheer magnitude of the magical shopping experience in London was nothing if not eye-opening. Elena thought to herself how small her world had been before leaving home.

Fabian left her alone for a bit, no doubt remembering how rankled she had been whenever he'd hovered over her shoulder while she looked for books back at Hogwarts. Elena knew that Hogwarts had thousands upon thousands of books on countless topics, so much so that there was even a Restricted Section that you could only access with a note from a professor. But looking now at the books housed by Flourish and Blotts, she realized just how much knowledge was out there that not even Hogwarts could teach her unless she went out and looked for it.

Deeply unnerved by this realization, Elena numbly took the few books she had selected to the counter.

" _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_? And here I thought you were more of a plant enthusiast."

Elena could have recognized that drawl anywhere.

"Regulus!"

His gray eyes bore into her and she instinctively blushed. She immediately regretted not having brushed out her hair after jumping off the roof. Elena was sure she looked like a mess compared to her pristine friend, somehow wearing a suit in the sweltering summer and looking for all the world like the impeccable pureblood he was.

"Don't worry, I made sure to pick up that copy of _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean_ you recommended. You're right, it's much better than _Winogrand's Wondrous Water Plants_ , I was skimming through it and it has a whole chapter dedicated to gillyweed, instead of a couple paragraphs. You'd think they'd have a copy at Hogwarts."

"Unfortunately, it seems Dippet, the previous Headmaster, was not the most scholarly of sorts. And Dumbledore has always favored Transfiguration and Defense over the other subjects. Alas, Herbology remains the forgotten sibling in the Hogwarts curriculum."

"Really? I had no idea."

Elena didn't like the thought of any one subject being ignored for the more popular classes.

Regulus shrugged.

"People tend to gravitate towards what they believe will make them more powerful."

The shopkeeper cleared his throat awkwardly. Elena turned bright red and fished out two shiny Galleons to pay for her books. Regulus barely stifled a laugh at her mortification when the shopkeeper gently told her that she needed another Galleon to pay for the rest. She didn't realize she would need that much money! Since when were books that expensive? It turned out that the price for knowledge was greater than the size of her pockets. Regulus slid a Galleon over the counter before she could stop him and Elena was suddenly reminded of Fabian.

Fearing a confrontation that was typical of most Gryffindor/Slytherin interactions, Elena hoped against all odds that Fabian was still engrossed in whatever book she had seen him reading earlier. It had looked like a Muggle book, which was surprisingly not unusual for Flourish and Blotts, given the entire shelf dedicated to a random assortment of Muggle literature. Still, she steeled herself for the possibility of an altercation, although she hoped it would not escalate to something of that magnitude. For god's sake, not everyone was James Potter and Severus Snape.

She showed Regulus the rest of her books, promising to pay him back once they got back to school, and he made little comments here and there.

Elena admired how smart he was. She had noticed that he would annotate in his books whenever he was reading and she had begun to pick up the habit, usually writing something down that she wanted to ask him about later. The dust bunnies were the only true witnesses to their companionable silence in that abandoned corner of the library, which had evolved into a real friendship based on intellect and mutual respect. He apologized for not writing to her, but promised to bring a couple of books from his family's private collection to share with her. With that thought, it seemed like he suddenly remembered something and quickly said goodbye, striding out of the bookstore without having bought anything.

As if on cue, Fabian appeared out of thin air and slung a gangly arm around her shoulders.

"Got everything you need?"

Heart pounding from the close call, Elena nodded and they made their way to the next shop.

Elena was surprised by how peaceful the day had been, all things considered. She had always considered Fabian a decent friend, if not a bit annoying. He frequently did things that exasperated her and loved to tease her, but at moments like these, she felt like she could let her guard down around him. He was probably the least judgemental person she had ever known, pranking indiscriminately and without malice, so maybe that was why she didn't want him to know about her friendship with Regulus. If he had a bad side to him, she didn't want to know it. Friends like him were few and far between. She didn't want to push her luck.


	10. Birds

_ November 1973 _

Elena had hoped all summer that Remus's tutoring would be enough to get McGonagall permanently off her back. Unfortunately, it seemed that there would be no end to her suffering. At least not until she could drop Transfiguration sixth year. At the very least, she had managed to bring her grade up to a low Acceptable.

Sure, she was still scoring Poor and the occasional Dreadful in the practical portion, but at the very least she was able to even it out with the theoretical assignments McGonagall loved to assign. She even managed to scrap by a single Exceeds Expectations (probably because McGonagall's expectations were so low for Elena) with a particularly spirited essay about the ethics of transforming mice into snuffboxes. Not quite the direction she was meant to take the essay, but she had somehow managed to bring up enough about the Laws of Transfiguration to get the credit she needed.

Regulus had a good laugh when Elena told him about how McGonagall had pulled her aside to congratulate her on the assignment and tried to offer her a biscuit, but Elena, fearing the worst, had sprinted away with a mumbled excuse about needing to get to her next class. This ended up backfiring on account of McGonagall being her Head of House and knowing very well that Elena did not, in fact, have a class she needed to rush to. Elena spent her free period dreading the detention she was sure to receive.

After weeks had passed with no word from McGonagall about detention, Elena convinced herself that perhaps McGonagall had decided to simply overlook her small transgression. Besides, she had been doing better in class lately. She even managed to score a seat on the Ravenclaw section of the classroom, which meant that there was no Sirius Black to pull on her hair and cause her to set her desk on fire.

She was not quite so lucky in Potions, but she was sure that Slughorn had entirely given up on her. Elena knew this because despite being allowed to do no more than bring the supplies and write up their potion's report, she was passing. Clearly, Slughorn didn't want to risk the possibility of having her repeat a year of Potions.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Elena was a magnet for bad luck. Having been lulled into a false sense of security, Elena refused to believe the letter that the school owl had dropped in her cereal was meant for her. She wiped the spilled milk from her skirt, blocking out Marlene McKinnon's shrill laugh that was obviously aimed at her. Maybe McGonagall had finally decided to have her killed. Since that was probably illegal, it seemed more likely she had taken her time coming up with some dreadful chore she would have to assist Filch with. If it was that bad, then maybe she could get away with hexing Marlene's stupid face without further punishment. If she was going to get in trouble, might as well make it count, right?

Instead, something much worse happened: Hogwarts had brought back the Wizard Bowl. Misogynistic title aside, the problem was this was an exclusively academic competition for students to compete across House and year in various subjects. Those who placed first in their subject categories would be rewarded with an invitation to the annual Ministry ball, which was highly coveted by witches and wizards alike for the opportunity to meet the upper crust of wizarding society in Great Britain. McGonagall wanted her to participate.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Elena's heart was in her throat at the thought of embarrassing herself in front of the entire school. There were already rumours that Dumbledore had invited a special guest from the Ministry to judge the competition. McGonagall had written in the now-ruined letter that Elena could choose the subject she wanted to compete in. The catch was that she had to place in the top three of her category. Elena didn't want to know what the alternative would be. Why couldn't McGonagall just leave her alone? Why did she always have to single her out? There were plenty of other students she could have focused her attention on, but for some reason the Scottish witch had some sort of vendetta against Elena.

Deciding to ditch her last class, History of Magic, Elena took one of the secret passages Fabian had shown her to avoid Filch patrolling the halls and made her way to the Owlery. Pio was still too scared to nest with the other birds, but she liked to visit the tower regardless.

Walking up the stone steps, Elena felt a sudden chill from the change in altitude. She cursed herself for forgetting her robe in her dorm that day. The cold of the tower was unbelievably unforgiving, but the view made her suffering worth it. Most students spent as little time as possible in the Owlery, the stench of owl droppings made it distinctly unromantic, but Elena didn't mind so much. There was a small alcove where you could sit to write letters, so it was not an entirely awful place to spend sulking.

Elena wrapped her arms around her legs as she sat down, not entirely sure she wasn't sitting on owl droppings. She was a little embarrassed to be feeling so sorry for herself. It was honestly pathetic. It's not like she was entirely incapable of applying herself. She had learned English hadn't she? Elena reached into her skirt pocket and unfurled the letter McGonagall had sent.

"...it is my belief that your participation in this trial will undoubtedly cultivate an understanding of your academic potential…"

McGonagall always used big words that made Elena feel like she was mocking her for not understanding. How could she expect her to participate in an academic competition where she'd have to compete against upperclassmen? There were already the geniuses in her year level like Remus and Lily that she could never dream to hold a candle to, she didn't even want to think of the Newt-level prodigies she'd have to go toe to toe against. Supposedly the competition was meant to factor for disparities in year level, but just how much could they account for?

Mamá would have loved all this. According to Abuela, Mamá had been the Head Girl when she was at Hogwarts back in her day. She and a boy from Slytherin House. Elena couldn't wrap her head around why her brilliant mother had chosen to hide away her magic after achieving so much. Maybe if she had stayed in Britain, she could have been a professor at Hogwarts instead of McGonagall. Then again, it was pretty romantic that she came back for Papá. Oh well.

But seriously? Why did McGonagall have to single her out like this?

An expensive looking falcon fluttered down to where she was sitting. He was larger than most of the other birds in the Owlery and seemed very proud of this fact, his big yellow eyes darting around as if to say _"And what about it?"_. Elena extended her arm and it settled on her arm, his thick claws digging into her skin.

"Hello, you beauty. You're so handsome, aren't you?"

He ruffled his feathers as if in agreement with her compliments, obviously pleased.

"I don't have any letters to send today, but I have some treats if you'd like?"

He looked at her curiously, tilting his head in anticipation. Elena reached into her pocket to pull out the dead rollie pollies she had saved for Pio. She flinched when he nipped at her fingers with his beak, watching him devour the pill bugs elegantly.

"Next time I'll make sure to bring you something a bit meatier. I bet a handsome predator like you is used to something bigger than dead bugs."

He flapped his wings as if to say, _"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am the deadliest predator in this tower."_

"Do you make it a habit to talk to animals?"

"What do you want, Black?"

Elena was not in the mood to deal with the elder Black brother. Still, she refused to be driven out of her secret crying spot. God, even the way he swaggered over to her was annoying. He and Potter had the same inflated ego and it directly translated to their gait. She could almost feel bad for Lily, who often received the brunt of Potter's teasing. Almost.

"Nothing. I just thought you might like to know whose bird you've been spilling your secrets to, Alvarez."

Damn. Of course. Who else would use such an expensive bird as their messenger. Whatever. It's not like it's the bird's fault his owner is such a _comemierda_.

As if on cue, the falcon flew to Sirius's extended arm, digging his claws into his skin when he realized he had not brought him any treats.

"Shit, Perseus, stop clawing me."

Perseus, no longer getting the attention he deserved, flew up to the highest nest in the tower. Sirius cursed at the haughty falcon, who shrieked back at him in turn. Elena stifled a laugh, hoping that he would leave now that he had been mauled by his own bird.

She closed her eyes, imagining that he would send his letter and then leave her alone. She wanted to wallow in her misery for a bit longer, so she could at the very least enjoy her dinner later that evening. Then again, she could always stock up on desserts so her chocolate stash wouldn't have to take another hit from her eating her feelings in the middle of the night.

Alas, it seemed that this day was meant to go horribly wrong in every possible way.

Sirius approached her silently, wondering what was wrong with Alvarez for her to be skipping History of Magic, a period she used for reading books about weird stuff like obscure magical plants. Not that he paid attention.

He had considered writing her a letter over the summer, but had decided against it, chalking that lapse in judgement to a case of extreme boredom. Still, it was at moments like these where he found himself wishing he had written to her, so that he could know what she was thinking. Maybe there was a mind reading spell he could use. He'd have to ask Remus about it. Peter would probably let him try it out on him, although Sirius wasn't entirely sure there'd be much for him to listen in on.

Hold on, was she sleeping? In the Owlery of all places?

Sirius snorted.

Elena peeked an eye open and groaned in frustration when she realized that he had not yet left the Owlery. Woe was her.

"You okay, Alvarez? This doesn't seem like one of your usual haunts."

"What's it to you, Black? Last I checked, anyone can use the Owlery to send a letter."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"I'm just asking because you don't seem like you're going to send a letter any time soon. I bet McGonagall wouldn't be pleased to hear about one of her students bumming around the Owlery instead of going to class."

At the mention of their Head of House, Elena's eyes darkened. Figures. Not even here could she escape that abominable woman.

"Why don't you just mind your business, Black? I don't see how the way I choose to spend my time has anything to do with you. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Sirius was livid. Here he was, trying to ask about what was upsetting her, maybe even lend her a broad shoulder to cry on, and she decided to yell at him! At him! As if he had committed some crime against humanity for trying to be nice. Uncle Alphard's advice from that summer suddenly came to mind.

_"Listen kid, birds are beautiful and they're great to have fun with, but they will ruin your life if you give them the chance."_

Looking at her, Sirius realized just how much trouble he could have gotten himself into if he let himself care about a crazy like her.

Unexpectedly, he left. Elena heaved a sigh of relief that for once Sirius Black had decided to leave her alone. Sure, he had given her that undecipherable look before leaving, but it wasn't her job to figure him out. She would leave that to his friends and whatever unfortunate girl who would eventually fall in love with him.

Besides, she had more important things on her mind. Like figuring out what to do for this damned wizard bowl. One thing was for sure, there was no way she was going to let McGonagall get the upper hand. And if she won the wizard bowl, then maybe she could finally wipe that smug expression off Marlene McKinnon's face for good.


	11. Gigglewater

_March 20, 1974 - Spring Equinox_

Elena didn’t quite know what she was doing at a Ministry ball of all places. Neither did the other Hogwarts champions it seemed. After all, they were all winners. Decidedly the best in their year, the best of the school. And who was she? No one. She had barely even placed.

Still, none of them, not even McGonagall could argue when Newt Scamander _himself_ had invited her to the Ministry ball, an event he had not attended for the past twenty years. It was a certifiable Big Deal. At least Mary was here. She had won the History category, surprising the judges by being the youngest winner out of the entire school. 

Elena had managed to scrape by in Herbology, coming in third, undoubtedly boosted by both Regulus’s expertise in the subject and the lack of participation of students from other years. Frank Longbottom had been the one to place first, sheepishly answering the majority of the theoretical questions correctly. Mary had swooned and then nearly fainted when she realized she’d be going to the ball with him. Well, not _with him_ with him, but close enough. 

Third place had been enough to fulfill McGonagall’s requirements for essentially surviving another year relatively unscathed. But what was she to do when one of the most celebrated wizards of the century had decided to take an interest in her? And for what? Sure, she had done alright in the theoretical portion, but she had blanked on a lot of the latin names for the plants she was meant to identify, something that Marlene McKinnon got a right laugh out of. 

The judges had given her a half point for saying some of the names in Spanish, which was _close_ _enough_ to give the idea that she sort of knew what she was talking about, even though it was mostly bull compared to Frank’s perfect pronunciation. 

That still did nothing to explain the famous Newt Scamander’s apparent interest in her. 

Knowing Marlene, she’d probably come up with something insane, like Elena seducing him with an illegal love potion or bribing him to get an invite to the ball. After all, that _was_ the reason why most people bothered competing in the first place. The only real glory that people got from participating at Hogwarts was from joining the Quidditch team. 

According to Mamá, Hogwarts used to put on the _best_ drama productions. They had often used _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ as a basis for many of the stageplays they would put on, since they were well-known enough to be easily turned into pantomime. During Mamá’s seventh year, she had a lead role in _The Warlock’s Hairy Heart_ that was performed during the Halloween feast. 

Apparently, some of the special effects they used were a bit too realistic and a couple first years fainted. Still, this was not the first time that a Hogwarts play had gone too far. The very last play ever put on was _The Fountain of Fair Fortune._ Mamá wasn’t quite sure of the details, but according to one of her old Hogwarts’ connections, a few years after she had graduated there had been an accident involving an Engorged Ashwinder and the Herbology professor at the time. There hadn’t been a play since. 

Elena would often think of these stories that Mamá would tell her of her days at Hogwarts and despair at how much they differed. Unlike Elena, she hadn’t struggled to belong, as was obvious from the rare pictures she occasionally showed Elena from that time. She was always smiling, surrounded by people, clearly loved. Elena would kill to have a fraction of that. She couldn’t understand why Mamá chose to sever her ties with the magical world that loved her. She said it was so she could marry Papá, but couldn’t she love both magic and Papá? 

“Elena, are you alright?”

Mary was looking at her concernedly. 

Elena shot her a nervous grin. 

“Yes, sorry. Just nervous.”

“God, me too! I can’t believe we’re actually here, and with all these famous people. It’s so nerve wracking, what if they decided to talk to us? I’m not sure what important people talk about during parties.”

Elena had no idea either. She spotted the refreshments table, chock-full with elegant dishes and sparkling beverages, wondering if she could get away with not having to socially interact with anyone besides Mary for the duration of the ball. 

The ballroom was decorated lavishly. While Elena had thought that nothing could outdo the Great Hall’s ever-changing ceiling and the floating candles that lit up the room, the immense chandelier in the middle of the room seemed set on changing her mind. More so than the stunning decorations, the ladies of the room all seemed to sparkle, wearing gowns and tiaras that blinded Elena and made her feel absolutely child-like. 

These women were not only beautiful, but also incredibly accomplished and from high-ranking families. Estella had mentioned that her own mother frequently attended Ministry balls, and growing up she’d punish Estella for playing with her fancy dresses and getting them dirty before events. It was embarrassing for a lady who sat on several administrative boards to have stains on her frock. 

Elena could easily imagine Mamá among these women, thinking back to a photo she had not meant to see bookmarked in between the pages of one of Mamá’s old school journals. She had been dancing with a tall, dark-haired boy that swung her around elegantly, as they spun in the center of what looked like the Great Hall. It was folded so she couldn’t see the boy’s face very clearly, but Mamá looked incredibly happy.

She had been too embarrassed to tell Mamá that she was set to attend the Ministry ball. Looking back, perhaps she should have, feeling incredibly out-of-place in the robes Valerie had let her borrow. 

Elena had not gone home that summer so Abuela had not had the chance to give her her annual full-body measurement and fitting. There had been a sense of relief to have to be inspected from head to toe and have her growing imperfections put on display, but now she had no fancy clothes that fit her anymore and no money to buy them without telling Mamá about the ball. It would only invite questions she didn’t know how to answer. Among them, McGonagall’s threat to write home about her poor grades. But the main one being: what had spurred Newt Scamander to invite her? 

Logically, it was likely to do with the practical portion. But how could he have known what had happened in the Forbidden Forest? She was sure no one had seen.

It was better not to think of these things. At least not with the seventh years shooting her mildly interested looks and Mary gripping her arm so tightly she thought she might leave permanent marks. 

Apparently Longbottom had just gone to get punch and Mary was debating whether or not to go get punch at _coincidentally_ the same time, worry knitted deep in her brows. 

She did look lovely though. Mary had written home and gotten her mother to send her a beautiful pale yellow dress that complemented her dark complexion. Her mother had been so proud. Estella had given her a rare look of approval and even let her borrow an amber ornamental hair clip to put in her hair. There was no way Frank Longbottom would continue to see her as only a shy underclassman. That is, if he got his head out of his arse, as Valerie had put it. 

Elena wanted things to go well for Mary. It’s what she deserved. 

Mary had a look of tortured constipation on her face, as she watched Bertha Jorkins approach Frank with a sly look in her eyes. There was no one Mary liked the way she liked Frank Longbottom. He was a year above, the same as the twins, and was a true example of Gryffindor chivalry. Elena’s heart wrenched for Mary, who was impossibly shy when it came to her feelings, and often suffered from Estella’s insensitive teasing. It was hard to take the advice of someone who never had a lack of suitor’s falling at her feet. 

Outside of the time she spent with Regulus in the library or by herself under the tree by the Great Lake, talking to Mary was when she felt the most at peace at Hogwarts. In between the moments when she’d be forced to mediate Estella and Valerie’s near-constant bickering, Mary would share bemused looks with Elena and quietly help her answer the homework questions she was struggling with. Mary was the kindest person Elena had ever met, with a true heart of gold. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her. 

Determined to not let anyone stand in the way of her friend’s love life, Elena interlocked her arm with Mary’s and strode confidently towards the drinks table. In the process of getting herself a glass of what looked like seltzer water, she “accidentally” shoved Bertha into a tray of apple tarts and pushed Mary towards her soon-to-be (god willing) beau. Mary shot her a terrified but furious look when she realized she was in smelling distance of Frank Longbottom.

Elena gave her a nudge and a surreptitious wink, as she set off to distract an disgruntled Bertha into a conversation about Xylomancy, a subject she had no idea was being taught at Hogwarts, and which was the only reason Bertha had even managed to place in the first place. Apparently, the Divination’s professor was trying to get Selina Sapworthy to give a guest lecture at Hogwarts, so he thought that by adding Xylomancy as one of the categories of the Wizard Bowl, she’d be interested in visiting. He was also the only judge that knew anything about Xylomancy, given that it had something to do with twigs, and conducted the test similar to his regular class assignments. 

It honestly sounded a bit spotty to Elena, but there was something reassuring about knowing she was not the only non-genius among the Hogwarts crowd. No offense to Bertha of course.

Bertha was honestly not that bad either. She made for entertaining conversation, being of the gossipy sort. Abuela had a rule about that sort of thing, something about flies or whatever.

_En bocas cerrada no entran moscas._

It was nice though. Elena took another sip of her beverage and let out a loud laugh that caused a few heads to turn her way. She closed her eyes and felt her face prick warmly. 

She glanced towards the refreshments table again and was delighted to see that Mary and Frank were talking, Frank looking very interested in whatever Mary was saying, who was shaking softly as she spoke in her slow, sweet way. Half-heartedly listening to some story Bertha was telling her about catching her friend Florence kissing a guy she had apparently called dibs on behind the greenhouses, Elena watched Mary undoubtedly charm the socks off Frank Longbottom.

Transfixed as she watched what had to be the beginnings of romance between Mary and Frank, Elena failed to notice when such a hush fell over the ballroom that even Bertha stopped speaking. Eyes-zeroed in on what micro-expressions she could decipher from a few feet away, Elena thumbed her rosary, hidden deep in her pockets, and prayed with all her might that this connection of souls would bloom into love. She might have looked crazy, staring intently at her friend, but there was something so entrancing about being able to bear witness to what could be the beginning of a life-long love.

“Getting on rather nicely, aren’t they?”

Elena nodded, still watching carefully to make sure Mary would not be interrupted, not taking much notice of the man who had stood beside her. Bertha had apparently realized she was no longer being paid attention to and had left, presumably in search of someone else to gossip to. 

“I can still remember the first day I saw Molly, beautiful she was, and mad as a hatter. Still can’t believe she agreed to marry me silly ol’ me. Not like I make much in my department, horribly understaffed as we are. Still, here we are, two strapping young boys later and the Weasleys are doing just fine, thank you very much.”

Elena thought back to a conversation she’d had with Fabian over the summer. 

“Wait, is your wife Molly Prewett? I’m friends with her brother, Fabian.”

The wizard flushed and let out a hearty chuckle. 

“Oh! My, well, what a small world, isn’t it? Pleasure to meet you, I’m Arthur Weasley, Junior Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department.”

“Elena James. Nice to meet you too.”

“Now, Miss James, you’ve got to take a look at these pictures we just got in of my boys the other day. There’s Bill on the right, and that’s Charlie holding my finger. And that’s my Molly, out like a light still holding the boys in her arms, looking lovely as ever, if I may add--”

Arthur was nice and obviously in love with Molly. No wonder Fabian seemed fond of him. 

“Oh and did you hear Newt Scamander’s come today? He’s not attended a Ministry function since Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. I think he’s here already, I heard some people making a big fuss earlier, although that’s when I came to get a bit of sherry so I’m not quite sure. Make sure to be on the lookout though, I’ve heard he’s a real interesting sort, traveled the world and all that.”

Elena nodded, barely paying attention now to Arthur’s winding monologue about the latest edition of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. It sounded interesting and quirky, like most things he said, but she was too busy internally panicking to care. Newt Scamander was here. 

Maybe if she stayed put, quietly listening to Arthur ramble about rubber ducks (?) and watch over Mary, then she could possibly avoid having to deal with whatever implications would come with meeting Newt Scamander. Unfortunately, fate seemed to not be on her side at that moment, when Arthur decided to abandon her for one of his friends from the Muggle Liaison Office. 

But then there he was, shaking Dumbledore’s hand, a tall and beautiful witch at his side. He was just as handsome as she remembered, which made Elena all the more nervous as she took a large gulp of her drink. She quickly realized it was a mistake, once a loud cackle escaped from her lips that felt as though it had erupted from her chest. 

Feeling very much like the bottom half of a pantomime horse, Elena ran away to a far corner of the ballroom, beside some very convenient drapery and a comfortable chair. Plate loaded with treats, she anxiously chewed some fritter and genuinely questioned her what sort of temporary insanity had caused her to guffaw like she’d just gotten a new pair of dentures. 

“Was it something I ate? What was I thinking, letting out a laugh like that? Abuela would kill me if she knew.”

“I don’t know, I thought it was rather charming. Then again, you are quite a surprising witch, aren’t you?”

Newt Scamander had approached her with all the stealth and ease of a man who regularly befriended the most dangerous and stealthiest of creatures. 

He pulled up a chair beside her, finally at eye level and all the more handsome for it. Elena felt embarrassed for noticing. He had his own glass of her same beverage, clearly labeled “ _Gigglewater_ ” in a way that felt almost mocking. He took a swig of it and let out a high pitched laugh. 

“That sure brings me back. Now, Miss James. Let’s talk about the bowtruckles, shall we?”


End file.
